Knowledge to light the darkness. The search for things of your own.Read More
Dear Nineteen-Year-Old / Dear Twenty-Year-Old,
My god, you have no idea. Thanks for bringing me this far. Here's what I would have told you.Read More
Two friends, two cameras, two thousand miles. Abby and I take the train through Europe.
Part 1/2: featuring twilight in Paris, a cosy sleeper train, a terrible ticket mishap, homelessness in Vienna, and sneaking into the Belvedere - plus, a perfect transatlantic coincidence.Read More
I will write here. I will live quietly, and quite alone. And each day I will see a little more of Paris, study it, learn it as I would a book. It is worth the effort. To know Paris is to know a great deal.
It is my first time in the city. We have seminars every morning, in a tiny attic classroom in the heart of Montparnasse. Usually we are taken to cafés for lunch, discuss the day's ideas over a three-course meal, and then embark on a field trip for the rest of the afternoon. Every morning I wake up, in a little room in the historic Foyer International des Etudients, and wonder what it will feel like to be a student of architecture, or philosophy, or impressionist art. We cross academic disciplines with easy, measured strides, using the city as a theme against these sweeping variations. Each evening we take laptops and wine up to the terrace to watch the sun set behind the Eiffel Tower and finish our assignments. I learn the city metro map. I start dreaming in French.
As part of my scholarship agreement, I write. These postcard-journals are based on extracts from those diaries.Read More
Talk about a dream, try to make it realRead More